Danger Days: From Zero to Positive
by rcleaver
Summary: Jet Star, Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul survived The Big Defeat. Word about Party Poison's imprisonment became Better Living's only shackle to the already rebelling population. The remainder of the Killjoys and the rest of their allies regroup for one goal: to save Party Poison and bring down BLI for good. First two chapters will be based on Na Na Na and Sing. Story will expand in Ch3.


The world has been washed clean for 7 years. Summers turned hotter and winters were devastatingly colder. The rays of the sun were certainly blinding during the noon in this scorching desert somewhere at the west coast. Seeing well would be the least of your problems once you realize that there are no gasoline stations or inns available at anytime of the day.

It would be rare to see a single, fat cactus or a lizard running around the grainy sands; after all, it has been 7 years where everything has been put in order — or not. Cities and towns were transformed into Zones, names sounded like bank accounts and even your nose hairs are counted and documented by the identical robots of BLI.

BLI, BL/ind, or simply Better Living Industries controlled the metamorphosis of the world into a serious, bleak wasteland with no compass for the future. People's identities were saved in disks, erased and reprogrammed. Life was basically expunged and reinstated by something worse than death — mental paralysis. It started 7 years ago when BLI took over the world through compromising with all the major businessmen with the world and taking over. There came a time, just before the brink of apocalypse started, that 9 out of 10 people would have that happy face on at least one of their stuff — until it become a 10 out of 10.

At first the company produced normal tranquilizers, pain-killers and the like but as the customers continued to patronize them, they slowly brainwashed them — providing things that we would love to have! Counter-heartbreak, Anti-sleep, Energizers, Food Pills, Fat Burner, Nose Perfector and anything that will satisfy humanity's hidden desires.

Darkness, in disguise of light, controlled majority of the world. Everything remained pitch black in the plains of the Northern Continent. There were no more late night parties or bright lights produced by the metropolitan art. But there was still a glimmer of luminosity whenever the first rays of the sun hit the skies.

Like any other day, this day started off with the haunting sound of the wind which brought hail stacks with little prescription bottles of BLI. The sun was shining — burning actually —over the vast space the desert occupied in the lovely California plains. The sky was perfectly blue for such a very drying morning. A light which can potentially erase the world as it is now. Seven years of disguised pain and buried agony is too long to burnish kindly. With the sun fast appearing on the heavens, where we place our hopes on, and the brightening of these deserts, the enemies of BLI would find their ways in exterminating and killing the joy.

The booming sound of the stereo coming from Show Pony's shoulder can be heard till the old New York. He was skating in black expensive skates partnered with an eye-catchy tandem of white tights with blue polka-dots and a black femme thong. His face is covered with a blue (polka-dotted too), motorcycle helmet with an orange-ish glow for the visors. He looked extremely graceful as he glided down the Abbey road we'd hate to ride on.

A familiar voice of a commentator we all know alarmed all the ears in a 1-km radius. His clear yet husky, masculine and dictating tone is very much remarkable amongst all we've heard. He's Dr. Death defying; a man in black sitting on a red wheelchair. He wears a beard and a mustache and yes; he's up for his voice. With ears set on the blue, here we go; click:

"Look alive, Sunshine

109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit

You're here with me: Dr. Death Defying"

A beat-up 1979 Pontiac has its engine revved up by a man with greasy black hair who did his best resurrecting the car. Even if BLI didn't exist, having one of these would be such a babe; it's sleek design and furnished with classic yet fierce upholstery and seats. It has a gigantic spider on the hood — which he very much disliked — and the flag of America embedded on the sides. He wore a jacket with partial, yellow pleather strips on it and olive green cloth and his green ray gun named Fun Ghoul was safely inside his holster.

Their real names are buried with the sands and they only go with the name of their guns so Fun Ghoul, like the others, calls himself as if he is also his gun. After all, men and guns can't be separated from each other.

"I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter

Pumpin' out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you alive

A system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan

Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny"

A skinny, blonde man, with a red 'Kobra Kid' ray gun arrived on his red motorcycle and his yellow helmet in his red pleather jacket and flashy, yellow top, He greeted Ghoul with a nod and parked his motorcycle in the lone warehouse found within the vicinity of 500-km. He brushed up his unique blonde hair with dark roots and gazed at the morning sun.

"This one's for all of you rock'n'rollers

All you crash queens and motor babies"

Jet Star, the blue ray gun owner, was walking on the road with his guitar case sheltered his latest find; a white Fender Stratocaster. He wore a black tank top, black leather jacket with the golden flag on his back, and black jeans. Ray removed his aviators as he approached the designated meeting place. Both men who arrived earlier than him, waved. He raised his right hand as a sign of response.

"Listen up!

The future is bulletproof!

The aftermath is secondary!"

The man with fiery red hair came down from the warehouse's second floor by the time Jet-star set foot on the lot. He wore a fitted, blue pleather jacket with lots of logos on it — just like the rest of the pack. He wore a pair of aviator shades and carried along a helmet with him.

He was followed by a little girl around 7 or 8 years old. Just like most of the pack, she wore colorful set of outfit; with a colorful print on her jacket and wicked robot toy with her.

"It's time to do it now and do it loud!

Killjoys, make some noise!"

"So everyone's here. We're all set everyone: Jet. Kobra. Ghoul." Said Party Poison — the most practical and a natural born leader. He is not very tall but all the men in the room looks up to him as someone; a leader, a smartass, a realistic one and a creative soul.

"Show Pony thanks for relaying the message." Said Poison to the feminine guy who seemed to be a shadow amongst them; unnoticed. "And Dr. Death Defying, for everything you've done." Dr. DD appeared, on his wheelchair, from a hidden room in the warehouse. He showed no exuberance towards the young men in front of him.

"Better get your heads on your neck when you get back this time." said Dr. Death Defying, who wasn't showing nor hiding anything.

"The car's all cool. Poison, get your wheel." Fun Ghoul said who was passing the keys of the Trans Am to Poison. "It's your drive."

"Dr. D, I'm going to leave this darling here for keeps if it's fine with ya. Found it on my way here; untouched and all." Said Jet-star, He opened the guitar case and revealed the unscathed guitar which opened everyone's eyes wide.

"Don't blame me if I sell that to the flies of the skies. Place it wherever." Replied Dr. D.

"Thanks, I really owe you this time; big time." Jet said in a jumpy manner.

"Aren't we leaving yet?" said Kobra Kid. "I mean it's about 9 am. We should get going."

"Too early." Said Ghoul

"Are your guns in your holsters?" asked Poison.

"Nice and shiny." Said Ghoul.

"Perfectly fine." Replied Jet.

"Fuckin' yeah." Responded Kobra.

"Kid? Are you ready to go?" said Poison while crouching down to her level.

"Aye!" said The Missile Kid who wore a gigantic smile on her face.

They boarded the Trans Am and said goodbye again to Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony. With Party Poison on the wheel, Kobra Kid on his right side. Jet exactly behind him, Ghoul on the opposite of jet and Kid between Jet and Ghoul, they were set to hit the mirage of the noon-hour night.

* * *

It's a bit late to post an MCR fic but I saw this file in some of my old folders and decided to post it now that I'm on ffnet. This story is based on the internet to the Music Video Na Na Na of My Chemical Romance. The next chapters though, would expand from there.

Since I'm currently writing a Naruto fic, I might not be able to update this soon. Anyway, thanks for grazing this!


End file.
